


Sweet Disposition

by thedappertrickster



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Norse Mythology, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-20
Updated: 2012-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-21 17:00:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/600064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedappertrickster/pseuds/thedappertrickster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a relatively unknown actress is cast to play the female version of Loki, Thomas only thought it proper to offer his help as needed. After all, they could both gain great insight into the tumultuous past of Loki through sharing their artistic approaches. Poor Mr. Hiddleston had no idea, however, what trouble simply being nice could get him into.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1 - Of Pressure

Chapter 1 ~ ~ “Loki ate some of the heart, the thought-stone of a woman…”

 

A small smirk toyed at the corner of her lips. “Well, naturally I am excited to be playing an emotionally charged character. All of us struggle with identity and it shall be very interesting to show the dimensionality of it crosscutting all of our perceived borders.”

The interviewer nodded in agreement, crossing his legs again before leaning forward with interest. “How are you going to define the character differently from Tom’s version of Loki?”

A small, thin fingered hand came up to rest upon her chin as she pondered her own answer. Of course her assistant had well prepared her before the interviewer, quizzing her on everything from her personal life to her knowledge of the Marvel Universe. Though this business of being interviewed was utterly new to her she attempted to take it in stride. Maintaining poise initially seemed the most important to predicting any potential success she might have had in this new business venture. After all, she never planned on any sort of acting. It just so happened to have came naturally to her. Who would have guessed?

“Tom plays Loki very brilliantly, no question about that. However, when Loki appears as a female there is certainly different motivations at play. There is an entire unexplored area of Loki’s psyche that I get the privilege to uncover and reveal to viewers of the film.” Her voice resonated clear, eyes never leaving those of the interviewer as she vaguely gestured with her words.

Did she not read it somewhere that those who spoke with their hands were more successful at maintaining the listener’s attention? Honestly more people researched on how to maintain listen without ever pausing to consider that they should simply speak of more interesting subjects.

The man grinned a bit before moving onto the next question. “Are there many pressures on you, since you are an unknown cast in what is expected to be a big box office film?”

“Oh, of course there are always pressures on us. But I think I put more pressure on myself than anything else. I can only hope to do my best at achieving the true nature of the character.” She again emphasized, raising her dark eyebrows a bit.

“Tell me a little bit about the auditioning process for you? Everyone seemed surprised when you were announced at the roll. Such a young age as well. Aren’t you the youngest cast member?”

“Frankly I too was surprised when I received the call. My friend and I were here on vacation, actually, and she made me a bet that I wouldn’t be bold enough to go to the open casting call that was published in the local paper. Well, I am never one to be named a coward so I went ahead and went. I didn’t realize who it was I was auditioning for-“

“-Who was actually Joss Whedon, incredibly lucky on your part.” He added.

“-Yes. After I read the lines they all talked amongst themselves and dismissed me. I thought little of it; I had just recited a few lines from Shakespeare as well as a few basic emotional lines. Then I got the call a few weeks later and they flew me here to begin preparations for filming.”

“They kept quiet the fulfillment of the female Loki role.” He remarked, more to himself it seemed. He certainly wasn’t the most engaging interviewer she’d came across.

“Yes, well, Tom’s portrayal built quite a large fan base which they were reluctant to displease.”

“There are rumors that Tom makes a few special appearances, is that true?”

She leaned forward, her lips quirking upward ever so slightly to betray her true amusement at the question. “I’m afraid that is something I cannot reveal. After all, the trickster is not allowed to reveal the wiles of a fellow trickster. I can only encourage you to wait in anticipation for the film to be released next weekend.”

The man seemed pleased with this answer as he stood, spouting the ending lists of the program before the cameras were shut off. A stray hand ran through his hair as he approached the seated woman. She took it as a gesture to stand as she did so, seeming far more intimidating then a woman of 5’7” should have. Her hazel eyes seemed to shimmer with amusement as they shook hands.

“You certainly have the presence of Tom, that’s for sure. Almost eerie. You know, you have a very strange accent. Where are you from? It wasn’t in the paperwork on you; our researchers had quite a few problems tracking anything about you down.”

“Is that so?” She queried, a smirk again toying with her features. “I will take that as a compliment. And I truly do prefer to keep my anonymity; I am aware how rude of me that is and I apologize. “

 

They exchanged professional pleasantries before her assistant was ushering her away from the set. Always more things to do, more interviews and more special events. It felt so trivial, being pushed into the back of the car by her assistant. The tinted windows his some of the blaring rays of the California sun, however it mattered little. She had made it very clear that a well air conditioned car was the first thing to be rented with her paycheck. Compared to the other actors of the film it was meager. A newbie did not deserve the same pay as one of the greats such as Downey Jr. but her pride often surfaced. This all felt rather like being undervalued; She was well aware of how well she suited the role as Loki.

Eerie indeed.

“Well, you did great, Lou. Now, this next bit is a surprise. His publicist asked me not to say anything to a soul. Ruin the surprise for you both, it would.” Jackie smiled into the rear view mirror, her sunglasses falling onto the brim of her small nose. The woman always seemed cheerful to a fault, despite the stress of her job. Jackie really did keep Lourie’s life organized. Certainly she would never make it out of the shower in time to get to the first activity of the day if not for her early bird assistant.

“Please, Jackie, I really do prefer Lourie.” The woman in the back seat emphasized, her tone meek. Someone always seemed to feel the need to tell her how to behave, especially now. No different then before, really.

“You told me your friend Sophie used to call you Lou!”

Of course Lourie told her that. It did not surprise her. Best to cover her hide now. “Well, I do consider you incredibly dear to me; without you I would have no career. So I suppose call me as you will.” She pushed some of her hair out of her face with a flamboyant flick.She crossed her lean legs, adjusting the pencil skirt upon her thighs before finishing her primping by polishing a scuff out of the beige heel. It all seemed so trivial, these silly shoes, the tight fitting skirt. Never mind that the top showed no cleavage. Though Lourie was indeed used to capturing the attention of many she had seldom experienced it so positively on such a large scale.

Fans of the previous Avengers movie had welcomed her as a great new addition to the ever expanding hoard of fans. She was well aware that soon she would attend a comic convention where she would be further quized on her dedication to the series. It did not cause any nervousness- she had always enjoyed the comics and particularly their modernization of Norse mythology. Thor seemed spot on, though it always made her heart pang a bit to see Loki portrayed as unnatractive, even in female form there were few attractive featuers suggest. She wasn’t sure if it was flattering or not that she was cast as Loki.

“Well, are you coming there miss dozey?”

Lourie maintained a gentle smile despite the internal agitation at the mockery. It was always a very fuzzy line for her, the difference between mockery and friendly jest. Maybe these Californians would aid in her getting the hang of it. She once again adjusted herself, pulling the button up shirt down ever so slightly to reveal the modest swelling of her bussom. It looked like a basic set of studio apartments, likely with a few offices thrown in between to keep some business opportunities in the area. It did not go without her notice the few people hovering about by one of the trashcans.

 

“You’re heading up to the Eleventh Floor, room 1D- woah there eager beaver, you’ve got a loose button.” Jackie slid her pencil into her mouth, holding it carefully between her pearly white teeth as she reached out to re-button Lourie’s shirt. The actress scowled only for a moment before offering genuine thanks, grabbing her bag from the back seat.

“Are you not attending along with me?” Lourie queried, tone light hiding well her excitement at being allowed out on her own.

“Not this time; Part of the terms here. You are to be allowed full room for your character study- oh foo I’ve said too much again! Stop doing that! You just have this nature about you that makes me always want to tell you everything!” Jackie swatted at Lourie with her hands, gesturing her forward towards the steps.

Lourie only offered Jackie a slight grin, her long strides leaving echoes of heels upon the cement as she ascended the steps. She glanced about in the frame a moment before pushing forward, marveling at the revolving glass door. She had never actually seen one before coming to California (she hailed from a place where heavy swinging doors were still in fashion) and found them just a bit intimidating. Impressively, the woman only lost her way through the halls once, a nice man had with a swoop of blonde hair had led her up to the proper room, continuously casting her a strange grin. Apparently she had interrupted something of great importance to him.

“You’re welcome.” He offered cantankerously, shuffling off quickly.

“I…oh how rude of me. Thank you!” She offered after him, voice echoing in the hallway. As her hand raised to knock she heard the chinking of the dead bolt from the other side of the door. She leaned forward, ear pressed carefully against it listening to gain a better grasp of wait awaited her on the other side. The door swung open, revealing a tall figure who offered a heart warming grin. Lourie caught herself upon the door frame, knowing full well the slight foible would go unnoticed by the male. Males seemed to be so considerably less observant.

“Hello!” The man offered lightly, accent heavy enough it could have added cream to the tea down the hallways. Definitely British. She recognized the voice almost instantly; After all she had studied his work rather thoroughly. For a moment Lourie truly found herself impressed by Jackie’s sneakiness; It marveled her own.

“Yes, good day.” She mused, a slight smile upon her dark lips as she reached out to accept his handshake. “Had I know to expect to find you here I might have prepared a far better introduction.”

“Ah, yes, well Luke presumed it would be much better for your character studies if there were no fan to interrupt.” He continued to smile, his lean frame stepping aside as he invited her in with a swooping gesture. “Please darling, do make yourself comfortable….I feel absolutely terrible but your name has slipped my mind.”

Lourie glanced at him from the corner of her eye as she passed. The man was a terrible liar, certainly this was not the same man who played Loki so marvelously. She tossed about the idea of how polite she need be for the situation. It should be clear that she was the one who would lead this little meeting of theirs, however he seemed to proper to be entirely blunt with. She nearly cursed herself at realizing how intently she had been watching his movements. Every twitch of muscle seemed to reveal to her something new to him; She already felt a deep kinship with the fellow Loki actor.

“No, please don’t feel terrible. I should hate to be the cause of such a thing as it is unnecessary. Lourie Lawson. Pleasure to meet you Mr. Hiddleston.”


	2. Chapter 2 - Of Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When a relatively unknown actress is cast to play the female version of Loki, Thomas only thought it proper to offer his help as needed. After all, they could both gain great insight into the tumultuous past of Loki through sharing their artistic approaches. Poor Mr. Hiddleston had no idea, however, what trouble simply being nice could get him into.

Chapter 2 ~

“Make the lie big, make it simple, keep saying it, and eventually they will all believe it.” - Adolf Hitler

~~~~~

Lourie glanced at him from the corner of her eye as she passed. The man was a terrible liar, certainly this was not the same man who played Loki so marvelously. She tossed about the idea of how polite she need be for the situation. It should be clear that she was the one who would lead this little meeting of theirs, however he seemed too proper to be entirely blunt with. She nearly cursed herself at realizing how intently she had been watching his movements. Every twitch of muscle seemed to reveal to her something new of him; She already felt a deep kinship with the fellow Loki actor.

“No, please don’t feel terrible. I should hate to be the cause of such a thing as it is unnecessary. Lourie Laurent. Pleasure to meet you Mr. Hiddleston.”

His posture suggested he was very amiable, however his eyes told an entirely different story. They were blue, not quite as she had expected. Apparently she hadn’t read enough about him. No, those oceanic orbs suggested he felt uneasy around her, constantly shifty to examine every quirk she might have to better understand her. It almost felt like being dissected. She wondered, for only a moment, if he sensed some strange recognition upon seeing her. If so he said nothing and moved with her to the small sitting area of the nearly empty office. Lourie glanced about, almost appreciative of the simplicity of this. There truly were no outside distractions.

Tom was used to seeing beautiful women, after all he worked in the film industry where image truly was everything. However something about this charcoal haired woman seemed ethereal. With impeccable posture every curl of hair appeared perfectly placed, even the way the simple dress clothes hung about her seemed unnaturally pristine. Tom had indeed expected some pale beauty to be cast in the role, however she truly embodied all he knew of the trickster. Every movement, be it the simple flick of her ankle or shift of weight seemed a well practiced visual symphony. It almost seemed to his eyes as if even now she was acting; from the very moment he opened the door he felt he knew her. The familiarity almost caused him to feel wary, something Tom seldom felt.

Tom merely shrugged it off as recognizing her from the various interviews he had watched; Her eloquent speech seemed to rival even his, as if she studied every thought thoroughly to better perfect her articulation. Her hazel eyes seemed knowing, a deep wealth of information hidden between the mixed amber and greens. The light seemed to play tricks on the perception of them; He could have sworn they were green even though he knew better.

“Well, I suppose I should be polite and compliment you on your work, Mr. Hiddleston.” She offered, displaying her palms as an opening gesture.

“Please, call me Tom.”

“Yes, yes of course. I did not wish to be assuming.” Did he imagine the fleeting softness of her voice?

“So you are familiar with my work?” He teased, a beaming smile gracing his freshly shaven face. “I must admit I know only what you have revealed to the press about yourself. Is it far to soon to ask more about you? It might give me a better idea on how to help you-“

“Pardon, but I must interrupt you. It’s rude of me, again I apologize. I do not need any help from you. Is not collaboration the equal contribution of two parts? Our approaches appear to be different, however common threads unite our ideals of how best to portray our dear trickster.” She continued to smirk despite the implied sincerity of her words.

“I’m dreadfully sorry, you have misunderstood me-“

“Apologies again, Thomas, your feelings towards your purpose with me are quite clear. You think me inexperienced and doe eyed in need of some brave knight to guide my hand through the messy darkness that is Loki; You are wrong. Loki’s feelings all seem rather kindred to my own life experience. Betrayal is nothing new, but rather a sense of destiny truly resonates.” Lourie’s head tilted ever so slightly as she leaned forward, resting her fore-arms upon her thighs.

Tom had to halt his eyes from traveling to peek at the sharp lines of her collar bones. He heard a small titter of laughter fall from her, only briefly before once again she was composed. He felt utterly vulnerable.

“To me, beneath all, Loki is just a wounded child. He’s had his heart broken and he attempts to hide it beneath these layers of rage and destruction. I would say that his arrogance and vanity are unmatched, all starting with his desire to be equal. I like to think of Loki as incredibly misunderstood, incredibly vulnerable despite his self-proclaimed glory.” Tom elaborated, eyes seeming alight as he spoke so openly about his approach to understanding Loki. After all, the greatest task for any performer was to understand who they were portraying.

“Yes, well, one must bear in mind the Loki of the Marvel universe is very different from the literal Norse God. I like to think that more of the spirit and mischief of the Norse interpretation should be brought out. After all, Loki seems almost dismal when you only remark that he is essentially following fate. The ultimate truth is that Loki shows whatever aspect of Loki’s personality that he wishes; Perhaps Loki is jealous, so Loki sees to it that Balder is killed. Loki feels a desire for Odin’s love, so Loki sees to it that Odin is gifted a most magnificent steed. Certainly these such instances, or at least where Sleipnir is concerned, are really minimized. I would like to bring out this idea that Loki is more in control then he lets on.” Her hands wrapped together to cross over her knees, her position again shifting to rest her weight upon the back of the chair.

“I feel rather foolish; I grossly underestimated how deep rooted your thoughts on Loki are. You really have spent much time researching, haven’t you?” Tom offered, a small laugh falling from him.

“Ah, common knowledge really.” She smiled, though did not laugh. Tom did not join her lest he risk her having not been joking. Yet again her expression seemed unreadable. “Enough can never be said of Loki. You wish to know about me though, yes?”

“I would love to.” Tom responded promptly, causing an embarrassed flush to grace his cheeks. “Shall we…start with where you hail from?”

“Ah, a very old fashioned rural town within the mountains. You understand my vagueness, I’d hate to risk my families well being lest they be pursued by the….hm…paparazzi.” It certainly sounded conceited, not unflattering though. The woman made clear that her self worth had long been established.

“No need, I can indeed sympathize. I’ve had fans go to extreme lengths simply for a small bit of attention. Rather frightening at times.” He admitted.

“Is it? Yet still you appear so humble. I wonder, Mr. Hiddleston, if you are always so kind. Is that just your nature? Or is it a way to cover your own deep seated sorrows? Perhaps that is why you read so much depression into Loki. Did your father abandon you?” The whisper of words almost caused Tom to lose his grip; Every thought seemed so planned and composed he found himself surprised by such boldness. He hardly anticipated being the subject of her scrutiny, least of all rudely asked about such personal matters.

“You must have the same issues else you would not be so keen to see them within your peers. Are you always so charming? I find it rather clear why you were cast in such a role.” Tom remarked, tone pleasant. He tried to take very few things seriously in life as he was absolutely terrified of stepping upon any toes.

“Is this your hostility?” She paused as the expression on his face changed to one of exasperation. “Oh, Tom, do forgive my rudeness. You understand how terribly hard it is to leave Loki out of your life once you have let him in, don’t you? ” Her dark eyebrows arched elegantly, eyes bleary with a new found softness.

They both shared a rousing laugh over the blatant trouble of Loki infecting your whole life. Rather like a poison, they mused, in mutual agreement. There was no escaping from Loki’s perspective once he has been let within the confines of the mind. After all, even the Norse god only came to those who truly sought his company from the confines of their minds. It was inescapable when a god had their eyes set upon their prey. Tom found himself rather chipper to discover this was indeed her first role in film.

“I’ve often participated in….shall we say plays. Really they were amateurish rouses compared to this. I hope for it to be my defining hour.”

There was a hopefulness within her that Tom found truly endearing. It reminded him of himself when he was first given the opportunity to play in a major motion picture. Joss seemed incredibly good at knowing who deserved the proper chances to prove themselves. It seemed to restore some of Tom’s faith in the good of humanity. He found himself staring at Lourie far more often then necessary, their conversation progressively deteriorating into small talk of favorite songs to childhood dreams. Tom could not really help himself; She was enthralling. So seldom did he get the opportunity to socialize, let alone with intelligent young women who seemed so self assured. He sensed that often she kept her tongue bit, each word was carefully selected from a massive repertoire of phrasings prepared for any eventual situation. Each time she spoke it appeared intentional, never once slipping upon her words.

 

It never occurred to him that this verbal jousting held any meaning to Lourie. In truth, each word he said she took into careful consideration until she knew well the understanding of how his own personality created such thoughts. She likely knew most of his motivations, he seemed to enjoy making his emotions easily accessible. It certainly didn’t hurt anything that she was pretty; Men treated pretty things so much better then fellow man it seemed comical. Though, above all, he certainly possessed the proper believability that likely made him such a wonderful Loki. She even found herself wishing to believe each word from his lips as utter truth.

“Ah, I’ve kept you rather late, I’m incredibly sorry!” Tom glanced to his phone, worry knitting between his brows. The expressiveness of his face almost enthralled Lourie; She really would have loved to admire the sculptural quality of it all day.

“What an absurd thing to say.”

“Yes…well…as I’ve made you entirely miss dinner. Shall I order in some food? My treat?” His tongue poked carefully between his lip before biting it with his teeth. He desperately craved more time to watch the woman, learn of her.

Her chin tilted up ever so slightly, meeting his gaze with an unreadable blankness upon her face. It almost frightened him, the way she seemed to invade a privacy he did not realize existed within the room.

“You would enjoy it, I’m certain…I cannot allow you to keep me long, you see. Many places to be, things to do in the morrow. But you know that.” She seemed only truthful, no loaded statements, merely speaking facts.

“Ah, yes, the convention tomorrow, I’d nearly forgotten. See, darling, I tend to be incredibly scatter brained. Too many thoughts not enough time to think them.” He remarked, hands gesturing to his forehead before he continued. “I actually have something of a request to relay to you regarding your appearance tomorrow.”

“Time does not exist to me, please speak it.” Lourie quirked her head ever so slightly, the top button of her shirt falling open.

Tom swallowed back a shuddering sigh as he resisted the temptation to glance to the newly bared flesh. If she noticed her body suggested no cues. His tongue brushed the back of his teeth as he tried to recall what he had been saying.

“Oh yes, you see-” He disappeared beside his seat, scooting a rather large box about closer to her. “They have asked that you go in full costume. Good for publicity really; It gives the fans something wondrous to remember and anticipate seeing. Brings them closer to the film.”

He did not miss the small curl as Lourie’s lips tempted to snarl, however she quickly regained her posture, offering a slight shrug. “Yes, well, that would not be wrong.”

A heeled foot carefully opened the top fold of the box as she examined the costume she had spent many of her past months confined in. The tight bustier she truly missed the least. The tights she could handle, even the fur collared cape was tolerable. After spending hours on end strapped in the black corset she finally understood the truest of feminine tortures. Poor women seemed to always draw the short end of luck.

 

“Don’t scowl like that, it’s a horrible look for such a pretty face…” Tom complimented quietly, pleased with the slight flush across her features. Certainly she was used to compliments? “If it is of any consequence, I will be attending with you. A surprise if you will.”

 

“Dressed up in the garb as well, I trust?” She smiled ever so slightly at the thought of him in that silly helmet. It really should have been more insulting than anything, yet she found it hard not to catch that contagious smile of his. Emotions indeed seemed the worst of all human illness.

 

“Naturally.” Tom smiled, tilting back in the chair as he mimicked Lourie’s exasperated expression. “At least you won’t be mauled by females…or maybe you will.”

 

“Are you attempting to coyly inquire as to my orientation?” Lourie’s light tone betrayed her amusement. He seemed naturally gifted with words yet he stumbled easily over his tongue in her presence. Rightfully so. She enjoyed being intimidating.

 

“Of course not! No! That would be incredibly rude!” He insisted, hands raising up in submission.

“Certainly.”

Ah, the curtness stung his pride. He hadn’t intended to offend her. They sat in heavy silence for a moment, watching the other seemingly testing who would speak first.

 

“I’ve changed my mind. I have no desire to join you for dinner.”

 

Tom bit his lip, trying to hide his remorse. She saw through it easily, finding a slight pang in her chest at seeing his blue eyes turn with disappointment. This man definitely was a lady killer, no doubts about that. She’d heard as much but experiencing it first hand made her feel unexpectedly powerless. Had she not thought better of it she would have no qualms seducing him. Though, she needed more time before that even became plausible.

 

Sensing the strange determination that crossed her features, Tom again shifted position in his chair, leaning forward a bit. “There are always other-“

 

“Let me finish.” She cut him off, hand raised with lips pursing ever so slightly. “I have no desire to join you for dinner, however I would not be opposed to some mead. I might permit you to escort me about. I’m not very familiar with the….area shall we say.”

Tom grinned widely as he stood with her, pulling his jacket from the back of the chair.

“Hold on a moment, did you really say mead?”

“Of course.” She replied.

Had he not known better he would have wondered if she even realized how strange a thing to say. Their shared laughter, similar in tone, echoed in the room as the door closed behind them.


	3. Chapter 3 - Of Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When a relatively unknown actress is cast to play the female version of Loki, Thomas only thought it proper to offer his help as needed. After all, they could both gain great insight into the tumultuous past of Loki through sharing their artistic approaches. Poor Mr. Hiddleston had no idea, however, what trouble simply being nice could get him into.

Chapter 3 ~~

“The creative mind plays with the objects it loves.” - Carl Jung.

 

~~~~~

“Cheers!” Tom replied hastily, raising his own shot of whiskey to his lips as he watched Lourie down hers as well.

“You know what you said earlier? About creating Loki from the ground up? How did you decide which way he was best built?”

He couldn’t remember mentioning that to her, knowing full well she seemed far more expert on the subject then he. He shrugged away the slight apprehension. Touchy fans had made him considerably more nervous around women then he used to be.

“You guessed correctly that man of his self doubts are really extensions of my own.” He remarked, smiling to her gently.

She merely smiled as finished his shot, coughing a bit before setting the solid glass back down upon the bar. The thrumming of the bass seemed almost unexpected as he glanced to the floor where several bodies huggled closely against one another. He merely quirked an eyebrow towards her, his hand extended as if feeding bait to a wild animal. She certainly seemed such, the disdainful look she shot him caused him to recoiled away from her for the moment. He kept forgetting what a strong personality she had; you either liked her or you did not and that was the simplest truth of the matter.

“You don’t want to dance, dear?” he asked, accent slurred ever so slightly.

“That-” Lourie gestured wildly to the crowd of sweaty bodies, “is not dancing. That is just dry rutting.”

Tom stood, adjusting the waist of his leather pants as he slunk towards her, his chest brushing against her arm. He offered her a sloppy smile as he carefully took her hand in his, fingers gracing her slender knuckles favorably.

“Give it a chance.” He whispered to her, causing her to smile.

“Why should I?” She laughed a bit, waving the bartender over to serve them both another shot. He shook his head, already humming with the buzz from the whiskey. She knocked his hand aside, forcing the small glass forward.

“You are nothing short of a spoiled child.” He teased her.

“And you are not nearly drunk enough to be taunting me, Tom.”

In his mind he understood how improper it was, they were intended to be colleagues not friends, lovers, or any semblance to either. The deep craving within Tom’s heart to know her, feel her, understand her seemed unnaturally strong. Lourie’s pull over him was magnetic, and Tom’s romantic heart likened it to love at first sight. She stood, her body taught near his as she offered him an exasperated sigh while she adjusted the small dress further down her legs. He wondered briefly when she had changed from her formal business attire? His mind flooded to easily with images of her half naked and the question was lost.

“I will embarass you; I’m not much of a dancer to begin with.” She added, biting her lip with contemplation.

He could not help but imagine those lovely lips wrapped about him. “Good think I’m a loon. Dance as if no one else is watching.”

An eyebrow arched towards him, a sly smirk spreading onto her features. “How could I say no to such a lovely offer?”

Lourie followed behind Tom, watching as he bobbed his head in time with the music. His rhythm was impeccable for being such a lanky British gentleman. He turned carefully, his hands falling about her waist as he fave her a careful spin. Eyebrows knitted, she tried desperately to find the rhythm however found herself rather the fish out of water. This was new to her and it showed. Tom found it endearing that the beautiful woman could not dance to save her life. The way she tried to roll her hips seemed as if she’d never used them in such a manner before. She did have the strut of a man, no wonder she could not dance.

 

Tom carefully rested his hands upon her hips, an attempt to guide them into more appealing movements as opposed to the terrible gyrations she had been preforming.

 

“You don’t dance often, do you darling?” He teased, lips quirking into a smile.

 

“We do not have entertainment such as this where I am from. I must confess it looks easier than it is.” Her eyes fell with envy to a dark-skinned beauty dancing elegantly next to her.

 

Was it envy? Something in the tricky gaze of her eyes suggested something more carnal, as if expressing the pleasure of a beast upon catching its prey. He felt his lips part with a slight gasp as Lourie carefully forced their dance closer, her fingertips gracing the rise of the other woman’s rump. The woman whipped around sharply, looking in horror to Lourie, who in turn glanced to Tom with pure astonishment upon her face.

 

“Tom, what are you doing? Leave that poor woman alone.” Lourie remarked over the loud music.

 

“I didn’t…I-” He stuttered, panicked at the anger clearly evident on the stranger’s face as she stalked off. “No, miss, I’m…”

“Tom you have wonderful taste in women, she’s gorgeous, really. Look at that sway. I wonder if she sways so keenly between the sheets.” Lourie teased, eyes turning favorably back to her companion.

“What did you do that for?” Tom all but accused, halting their movements as she looked down to her.

 

“I have no idea what you mean, Thomas.” Lourie remarked, slyly smirking to him as she pressed herself closer to him, the rise of her breasts nearly spilling from the top of the low cut dress. Dress? When did she put on a dress? “I needed to know how you handle stress. Judging, I would say not very well.” She rested a finger carefully against his chest, teasing smile still upon her lips. “Loki would be disappointed that you cannot control your hormones.”

 

“Loki would take you here upon this floor, cruel woman.” He murmured, leaning forward a bit as their hips brushed, sending a pleasant thrill spiraling to his groin, discarding his previous thought. Feeling her soft body against his only intoxicated him further.

“And you are hard.” She fell into a fit of laughter at the deep red that crossed Tom’s high cheeks.

 

“It’s your doing, darling. I’d be a liar if I said otherwise.” The words fell from him before he had the chance to halt them. This game suddenly seemed much more dangerous. It was as if some spell had came over him, tossing aside his usual respectful and reasonable nature in favor of mischief.

Lourie tilted her head slightly, brushing her dark waves of hair from her shoulder as she met Tom’s blue gaze. She pressed her hips more forcefully against his body, the friction sending another fresh bout of friction against his increasingly obvious erection. She watched, bemused as his lips again parted, forming the most delicious pant of tension. He had his own surprises, needless to say. Lourie had not properly anticipated his eagerness, how willing he was to play into such lusty taunting.

“How improper of you, Thomas. Tell me, if I asked you to bed me, would you take such an opportunity?”

“Is that an offer? I would not refuse.” Again his honesty surprised him. Tom typically found himself denying women such requests, he was proper and waited for women he loved to take such a hasty step. Her hold upon him was tight indeed.

“Well come along then, let us get this dirty business out of the way.” Her small hand wrapped rather forcefully against his wrist as she led them out into the cool night air. He did not expect her to carefully push him back against the side of the building, not bothering to concern herself over all the strangers waltzing by.

His hands fell to her shoulders, pushing her away with a bit of force. The wicked woman seemed to care so much about embarrassing him that she would win at any costs. Some costs he was not willing to entertain. After all, how terrible it would be if anyone were to catch wind of this little affair. Two Loki’s sleeping together? How improper. It felt deliciously wicked. The cab ride home they spent ducking out of view of the rear mirror, her sinful lips wrapped about his cock, his knuckles ghostly white from how tightly he gripped her hair within his hands. She might have initiated however he wished it clear that he dominated this encounter. Tom barely mustered the internal strength to yank her away from him.

Indeed all the way up to his hotel room, which they went to against his better judgement, their hands fondled one another, hers timid and cautious contrary to how he imagined her. His lips pressed to hers with great demand, fingers sliding teasingly higher and higher upon the pale flesh of her thigh. His fingers danced about the thin fabric of her garter and stockings.

He didn’t remember her wearing stockings.

Again she pushed her body against his, all thoughts of suspicion running away from him. All he saw was her, all he could imagine was having that beautifully curved form beneath him, her nails digging into his back. He usually preferred tender lovemaking, yet something drove him toward a deeper need for dominance.

He thought nothing of it as she pushed him back to his bedroom, already seemingly aware of how his room was laid out. She knew exactly how many steps back to walk him before his knees would buckle him about the edge of the bed. He normally did not mind being beneath a woman, yet something in his mind encouraged him to struggle against her. He was the one who would rule her. She should be kneeling beneath of him, not above. His thoughts grew increasingly violent as he tossed their bodies over, hers pinned firm beneath his as his fingers raised the dress over her hips, pleasantly surprised that beneath the garter she wore no underwear. He met her eyes, lips forming a snarl of desire.

“You really are worthless, aren’t you?”

“Excuse me?” He remarked, startled from their rough play by her harshness.

Her lips twisted wryly, a strange laugh echoing from her. He felt her hips throw him once again beneath her, her sex resting tauntingly above his demanding arousal.

“Do you really think it so easy to bed a god? You’re so worthless. You can’t even tell what thoughts belong truly to you. This whole night you have all but let me walk you around on a leash.” Her words were sharp, tone deepening as if to frighten him.

“Really, darling, we don’t have to play that game any longer. I can appreciate the Loki kink, but this is too much.” He said, laughing awkwardly as he felt her hands skimming up his chest, one resting fondly upon his cheek.

The back of her hand collided loudly against his cheek, forcing his head to the side. Such a strong hit from her surprised him. She seemed serious. Perhaps he had underestimated her acting ability. He turned back to her, blue eyes bleary with shock.

“No, that has nothing to do with this you foolish man. Bless you, you really don’t understand the dire trouble you’ve walked yourself into.”

“Lourie that’s enough, you win. You are the better Loki. Now please darling, give us a kiss.”

Those small fingers carefully trailed up to caress the side of his stinging face. Her smile turned gentle, almost the same manner a mother looks upon her child with. Those fingers continued to trace idle serpentine shapes about his neck before clenching tightly about the flesh.


	4. Chapter 4 - Of Whispers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When a relatively unknown actress is cast to play the female version of Loki, Thomas only thought it proper to offer his help as needed. After all, they could both gain great insight into the tumultuous past of Loki through sharing their artistic approaches. Poor Mr. Hiddleston had no idea, however, what trouble simply being nice could get him into.

Chapter 4 ~~~~~

“Man is the hunter; woman is his game. The sleek and shining creatures of the chase, we hunt them for the beauty of their skins; they love us for it and we ride them down.” - Lord Alfred Tennyson

~~~~~~~~~~~

Tom felt himself gasping for air against the crushing strength of those cold feminine hands about his neck. Her lithe body loomed over his, shadows casting a ghastly display against the wall, her eyes seeming predatory in the dimly lit room. Uncertainty gripped at his heart as he wrapped his considerably larger hand about her wrist; Despite his best effort her grip remained firm. Just as his vision began to black, lips sputtering as mewls of pain fell from him, her hands freed him from their grasp. Every breath rushed into his lungs as he panted, heaving chest rocking her body atop his.

 

Menacingly, she leaned forward, wicked grin displaying her white teeth as she nipped at his ear lobe.

“Are you frightened of me yet, Thomas?” Her cool breath sent an involuntary shiver down his spine, the malice within her voice clearly playful. Her tongue ran carefully along her lip as if tasting the pheromones of his fear within the air.

“You mortals are so fun to toy with; Your mortality rules you, consumes you with primal fears. No matter how many ages pass you still cling to that frailty. You understand, don’t you?” The words slithered from her lips as she rested her forehead against his, their noses nearly touching as her eyes sought his.

 

Tom turned his bleary eyes up to meet her emerald gaze as he continued to catch his breath, unable to articulate clear thoughts. He shifted his hips ever so slightly, hoping there may be some chance at throwing her weight from him so that he might escape. The woman sensed his hesitation and rested the tops of her feet firmly against the bed. For such a small frame she seemed incredibly hefty in such a dominating position; Tom realized he would not be allowed to leave until whatever aim she sought had been accomplished.

 

“Tell me, Thomas, in that feeble little human mind did you really think I would let your…performance slide? You and your race have successfully painted me a sniveling fool for the whole of humanity when I should be revered. Just like those other gods, always underestimating. I will not be regarded in jest any longer.”

Tom’s eyes widened in disbelief; beautiful women tended to be a bit insane, but this was beyond shocking. What she was implying both frightened and intrigued him. Was this all some clever test of hers? A challenge at who truly portrayed a more convincing Loki? He knew in his pulse he did not truly believe that. This seemed too genuine to be acting.

 

“You doubt me, even now? Strange, you seem to have lost your voice-” She shrugged her shoulders a bit and he watched, mouth agape as he found himself facing an exact copy of himself, save the twisted grin that seemed inhumanly large upon his face. “Oh? He’s surprised now.” The replica quipped, voice mirroring his own accent as a long finger carefully ran against his pulse. “How immensely easy it would prove, to simply end your existence and take your place. Hel would certainly appreciate such a pretty face to wither…I really should visit my children more I just never have the time…”

Swallowing hard, Tom coughed a bit before the proper words found him. “What good is any of this, then? You went through an incredible amount of trouble just to find me. What purpose?”

 

The duplicate’s face transitioned back to the one he recognized as Lourie’s, appearing thoughtful as she sought the answer. Her eyes appeared to soften a bit as she relinquished some of her weight from him, again seeming the normal human he had believed her to be. “You truly pity Loki. Why?”

 

His lips pursed, fearful of answering the question wrong and ultimately sealing his own fate.

 

“Why?!” She implored, palms falling to rest upon either side of his head as she again lingered above him, the swell of her breasts teasingly close to his face. She was toying with him, batting him about as if a dying mouse held captive by the grinning cat.

 

“I really know nothing of the real…of you.”

 

She scoffed, smirking ever so slightly as her eyes narrowed. “Lies. Do not play me for the fool, that is a line you should not wish to walk with me. I ask again, why do you pity Loki?”

 

“It seems, to my understanding, that Loki never had much of a choice in the outcome of his life. Trickster deities never have much choice but to be the outcasts; still they aid humanity while credit is not properly given. It seems a lonely fate.”

 

“You feel this loneliness as well, do you not? That is why called for me.” A small tout of laughter huffed from her throat at the horrified expression on his beautiful features. “Yes, dearest, I heard you ‘Please, Loki, I need your help here. Let me inside your head, I’d give anything’. No need for embarrassment; I was pleasantly surprised. I have not been called by a human for so many ages. I allowed you glimpses of my thoughts, aided you so that you might have your fleeting fame. Business calls, however, you must pay your debt to me.”

“I didn’t…I didn’t sign anything.” He remarked offhandedly, mind buzzing. Norse Gods didn’t exist, certainly not. He had only meant the phrase in jest, surely he could not be held accountable for those words? He was not a horrible person; only those deserving of ill should be visited in such a manner.

 

“You fool, I’m not some demon that is commanded so I suggest you relinquish that hope. I have much simpler requests of you; Only one task you must accomplish for me and I shall be finished with you and your pathetic life.”

Tom was no fool; He knew Loki could not be trusted, after all he knew well he would be unable to deny this gorgeous and deadly god anything she requested. He merely nodded a bit, eyes meeting hers with anticipation. Tom did not anticipate finding Loki’s hungry lips upon his, tongue invasive pry past his lips as their teeth knocked together.

He heard her laughter echoing about in his head as she pulled away from his freshly bruised lips. How lovely his mouth looked smeared with shock and smudges of lipstick.

“You will serve me. ”

He scoffed; It sounded a juvenile request. Loki wanted him as a follower? What good could he possible present to the deity? Another trick, no doubt, to lull him into a sense of security. Less then impressed with Tom’s reaction, the god reached out, fingers wrapping tightly in his hair as she jerked, tearing from him a yelp of pain.

 

“I did not escape my imprisonment simply to toy with your human life; It is foolish to think yourself so utterly important. You may play the roll of humble yet I see your thoughts clearly, Thomas. I see the depravity that”

 

The implication hung clear and Tom merely looked away, unable to meet those harsh green eyes any longer. The god laughed lightly, eyes narrowing with glee.

 

“Tom, do not forget I am what made your life so gifted. You have walked with my blessing far longer then you know. Certainly you can appreciate how lucky you have been.”

 

“Strange Loki would claim he blesses me with luck when clearly Loki is the least lucky of all the gods.”

 

“Strange Loki would allow such verbal transgressions to slide by. Do you really wish for me to cause such pain unto you, my devoted servant?” She quipped coyly, tone rather pleasant despite the threat looming in each syllable.

 

“Why choose me? Do you realize how many women worship you? You must know. They would be so much better suited.”

“You should be thanking me. I could have taken you in my true form, it certainly would have been more…violating.” The way Loki used the word so casually sent shivers about Tom.

“I have nothing to offer, you’ve said it yourself. I’m a twit.” Tom reasoned, attempting anything to talk the trickster away from this. “Just release me, I have no use to you.”

The god seemed to contemplate this, face twirking back and forth with thought as her eyes examined his features carefully. She settled upon a simple shrug, pushing herself up to sit upon his thighs, back straight as she glanced away.

“There are many things, Thomas, that even gods cannot know. I have seen those who would ask my blessing, that I could take as brides. Much as I have ruined you the same may be said. Within your own right you understand me, as per my blessing upon you allows. I have created for you this wonderful life full of beautiful women and riches yet you do not break. Goodness you do not even spare words of praise in my name. I want you broken.”

They sat in pregnant silence, her form never moving from its position on top of him. Tom did not dare meet those eyes, he found himself more frightened of them then any normal fear. Those eyes violated him in ways not meant for the human mind. He still desired her, and such feelings seemed dangerous to reveal to the god seated upon him. She rested her hand fondly over his heart, a wholesome smile again falling to her features as she noted the increased rhythm. She lazily drew shapes upon his chest with the tip of her finger, seemingly lost in her own thoughts before she carefully lowered herself onto him.

“You are mine. No other mortal may touch your body. Nor shall you touch another. You will follow every word I say, no matter how grotesque you find the words. I own you, your soul belongs to me.” The god carefully leaned forward, cold hands fondly resting upon his chest as she thrust herself down onto him. His lips parted, watching the heaving of her modest bust while she rode him, her dominance evident. She covered his mouth with her hand, still allowing him to capture breath through his nose.

“Now now, Thomas, have to be quiet about this business. If anyone hears the press will ruin you.” She cooed, thrusting particularly forcefully down upon him. “Goodness, you are a very lucky man, Thomas.

She seldom made any sound, save for the slight pant from the physical exertion. She must have delved into his mind, or perhaps his knit expression gave away his approaching release. He never thought himself one to enjoy being utterly dominated and in fear of his partner, yet being claimed by Loki only fanned the passionate fire. Or perhaps those were Loki’s own vain thoughts.

Loki tutted a bit, leaning forward to kiss his brow. “Come now, Thomas, I haven’t permitted you release yet. I’d hate to punish you.”

He closed his eyes, attempting to control his breathing. It seemed necessary to obey the woman at the moment. He knew the borders of Loki’s sanity were more grey than anything else.

“Look at me, Thomas.”

He heard her, yet made no indication of obedience. Her fingers dug into his cheeks, forcing his mouth open as his eyes looked up to her emerald ones.

“Speak the name of your ruler. To whom does your soul belong?”

It seemed so formal a thing during such a depraved act. He had no choice in their coupling yet she could not force his words. He held no power over his thoughts, but his words still belonged to him alone. She hissed a bit as he met her thrust, his final act of defiance.

“You think yourself so clever.” Her grip upon his face slackened, her thumb brushing carefully over his lips. “I could give you anything, yet you want for nothing. Now, say it.” She seemed amiable, some friend discussing simple facts with little emotion. The rage danced so close beneath the surface, he could sense it. It felt as if it were his own rage.

“I refuse your offer.” Tom remarked, bravery surfacing if only for the moment.

Loki laughed, loudly echoing in the quiet of the room. Her hips rolled forward, a moan slipping from him unwillingly. For being such a terrible dancer Loki certainly knew how to please a man. Then again, perhaps the whole evening had merely been a clever performance.

“You’re foolish to think you have the power to refuse me. I have upheld my end of our terms, whether you realized at the time the bargain you struck with me. Now really, profess my ownership of you lest I be tempted to to turn you about and violate you in the truest sense.”

“I’m not frightened of you, Loki.”

A satisfied grin spread across Loki’s painted lips, her eyes closing with pleasure at hearing herself named. Her thrusts slowed, seemingly more relaxed. She did nothing to stop him from thrusting back up against her, a mutual dance that seemed some semblance of normal. Tom felt himself again build nearer to his orgasm, not certain if he should even bother trying to please the god. Certainly humans were nothing compared to Loki’s other lovers. The god carefully pressed her hips down as he released himself inside of her, biting his bottom lip painfully hard. Her hair fell about her face, shrouding the both of them in a dark cloud of strands as she leaned forward, kissing his brow.

“How many legs do you suppose our children shall have?”

Loki fell into a fit of laughter at Tom’s wide-eyed expression of horror. Tom worried greatly just how much trouble he had waltzed himself into. He belonged to Loki now in a way he never before imagined possible.


	5. Chapter 5 - Of Trickery

Chapter 5~~

“The greatest of tricksters fool even themselves”.  
~~~~~

He watched her from his place hugging the door of the cab Lourie insisted they share. After all, Loki should be precisely on time, regardless of gender. Tom wondered that morning when he awoke alone if he had simply imagined Lourie as a dominating version of Loki. Something seemed different however, though neither spoke of the previous night. She looked truly magnificent in full costume, the helmet perched fondly upon her knee as she adjusted the fur cape.

“Don’t be so quiet, Thomas. You have such a lovely voice, its really a shame when you aren’t using it.” Lourie suggested, reaching across to carefully pat his leather clad leg.

He seemed a very different man when in costume, as was to be expected of an actor. He seemed more wary, fiendish in some ways. It seemed strange he did not feel the same overwhelming sense of fear he had the previous night. She might have to remind him publicly of his new affiliation; She was not one to sit idly by, especially not when it concerned her possessions.

“So if you really are Loki, that means all Norse deities exist? That’s all there is to it? Everyone else is wrong, just like that?” He pinched the bridge of his nose with the contemplation, his lean body leaning further away from hers.

She merely cocked her head, sending a muss of hair over her shoulder with the movement. “Don’t be daft, there is considerably more to it then that. It is ones belief in something that makes it exist.” She could not help but grow progressively frustrated with his human ignorance. He might have had a pretty face but he certainly seemed to be confused by the simplest of ideas.

He looked hopeful a moment as he knit his eyes shut, as if he might wish her away. She merely laughed. “That won’t work, I’m afraid. I’ve tried.”

“You really don’t understand the insanity of this?” Tom sighed, exasperated by the trickster.

“Relative, really. Tom there is no sense resisting me now, you certainly did not try to your fullest extent last night. I should hate to-“

“What? Have to teach me a lesson? You spout on about it often enough I’m certain you will regardless. For a self proclaimed god you should realize there are far worse things then merely physical violations. Pleasure does not guilt me, nor will it ever.”

“Oh, so dramatic. It would do you well to remember you and I are more alike then perhaps you realize, Thomas.” She remarked, tongue clicking against her teeth in irritation. “You seem to forget that I am not some silly comic character, but the god itself.”

The cab driver glanced into his rearview mirror with apprehension. She managed up a few tears, resting her head over upon his shoulder as she met his eyes. “Can’t we have a pleasant time like a normal couple?”

“Now who’s dramatic.” Tom carefully pressed his hands into the flesh of his thighs, shocked by the disgusted glare from the cabby. Leave it to Loki, likely manipulating everything the cabby heard. Just perfect.

“Hate to interrupt you folks, but if I was you son I’d treat such a pretty face much nicer then that.”

He could feel Loki’s sly grin against him, eyes narrowed in glee at such a small victory.

“Do you know how many lives your face has ruined, dearest? You taunt your fans all the time, Tom, certainly it is only justified for you to be embarrassed by me now. Or maybe I will seek your ruin, I’m not sure yet.”

“It is rewarding to know I adequately portrayed your arrogance.”

“Or you portrayed your own, Tom. Do you always blame everyone else for your problems?”

“You’re the only problem.” He quipped, smirking a bit as she scowled. He wasn’t the type to enjoy being rude, however he knew that the only way to perturb Loki was with indifference. Loki seemed to revel in having others attentions and Tom simply refused to relinquish. “Would it not be simpler to leave? Let me on about my life?”

“I’ve come too far for that, Thomas. I have such a great purpose, yet one so simple in design. Truly a marvelous work that I have little choice in altering.”

“You’re a god, you always have a choice.”

His words silenced her.

The number of fans awaiting their arrival seemed to startle Loki (Or Lourie as she insisted), her normal confidence diminishing as she stood beside Tom, submissive for all fans to see. Naturally he did not believe this little rouse; She did an excellent job of convincing everyone else she was a humble girl from the Midwest who merely hit a lucky break. She was charismatic and likable and he utterly hated her. She seemed the perfect combination of attractive and intelligent, something he had fallen for last night. He liked Lourie so much he could only hate her. She was not this ideal woman, but something much worse.

He never stopped to realize his thoughts mirrored those of his female fans. It disgusted him, the way she would carefully touch the other young men’s shoulders, her hand firm enough to command their attention yet subtle enough to suggest her compliancy. She seemed to take small joy in flirting with a few of the girls as well, pulling in any dressed as male Loki to get photographs taken of them together.

“Miss Lawson! I’m such a fan!”

Lourie smiled as a teenage girl approached the two, handing Lourie a small paper to sign. “What might I call you, darling?”

The girl blushed a lovely shade of crimson, her hand absentmindedly brushing through her short brown locks. “Samantha.” She replied, timidly. “I’m so excited to see your performance. But I have to ask…” The girl leaned forward, eyes glancing towards Tom. “What’s Tom like off set?”

Lourie’s smile fell ever so slightly as she seemed to focus upon the fan. “Samantha, you said?” Lourie leaned close to the other’s ear, whispering secrets that only caused the girls blush to spread.

“T-Thank you, Miss Lawson. I’m such a fan!”

“It’s Loki to you, dearest.” Lourie retorted, carefully moving herself closer to Tom, her hand falling about his waist as they posed for yet another picture.

“What did you tell her?” Tom asked, curiosity peaked.

“She writes dirty fanfiction about you, you know. I merely gave her some new material.”

“Who would write something like that about me?” Tom paused, nose crinkling ever so slightly at the prospect. It was really flattering. “People write such things about me?”

Lourie smiled ever so slightly, lips upturned wickedly. “She writes about you taking her in the alley. Why don’t you humor her fantasies, Tom? Maybe I will for you, you’re too much a gentleman to take advantage of your fans. Someone will have to do it for you. Or would that anger you, Thomas?”

He was blushing all through the next hours worth of interviews. It only caused her more glee as he continued to redden at the mention of their similarities by the various fans. At the mention of one that they would make a great couple Lourie carefully ran her heeled foot up his leg, a suggestive grin on her features that caused a bout of laughter within the room.

“Tom, I think they are trying to tell us something.” Lourie smirked, gaze full of mischief as her hand carefully found his upper thigh.

The fans loved her; the press seemed to respect her boundaries in a way they did not respect his own. She seemed so wonderful it almost sickened him. It was frightening how quickly his character shifted from his jovial self to one that seemed so melancholic. The god’s presence was toxic like that.

He was hardly surprised later that night when she felt it necessary to point out a fan claiming to have slept with him. He knew Loki had likely seen to it for himself. It seemed clear now that Loki had only one intention and that was to ruin Tom’s life.


	6. Chapter 6 - Of Bargains

“One does not love a place the less for having suffered in it unless it has all been suffering, nothing but suffering”. - Jane Austen

~~Chapter 6~~

 

“So, welcome both of you!”

Yet another cheery interviewer, naturally Tom was chipper as well; he was always in a good mood around others. The rousing applause truly floored her. Tom had the most dedicated and motivated fan base in existence. It seemed these girls would fly hundreds of miles just to be in the same room as him. How on earth was he still so kind? She really had her work cut out for her. Surely the man was a thief of hearts.

“So, let’s start with you, Miss Lawson! How does it feel to have been in one of the largest grossing films in the whole of Marvel’s success line?”

She donned a shy smile, eyes carefully turning to the interviewer from her place next to Tom on the small couch. She looked truly innocent, a clever rouse. Tom felt sick.

“Oh it’s an honor. To know that our collaborative efforts have been so adored by the fans is truly humbling. I always used to think ‘I could never do that’ and yet here I am. It’s surreal.” She answered, words falling easily from her cherry painted lips.

“Considering it’s your first role we are all very impressed!” The interviewer’s laughter seemed almost bitter. If Lourie noticed her expression did not betray her.

“Thank you, you’re really too kind.” She gave a humble nod of her head, glancing to Tom briefly.

“So, you two worked together on set?”

“Actually no, we didn’t meet until a few weeks before the premier.” Tom answered pleasantly.

“They made quite a large effort to keep us away from each other; Two Loki’s might have been too much to handle!”

They all laughed. It almost pained Loki, such lighthearted banter. It was just boring.

“There’s an awful lot of rumors floating about, you two doing the whole super hero “BFF” in real life bit-“ The set lights flickered quickly, giving Tom the proper opportunity to cut in.

“Ah, of course,” He began, hands folding subtly in his lap as he again crossed his legs, “We have a surprising amount in common.”

The interviewer turned his attention back to Lourie, a slight smile upon his face. “It does seem like they picked you for your similarities to Tom. I mean, give him some enhancements and you two could be related!”

Again they laughed, Lourie’s smile a bit curter for the wear. “Yes well, I’m not sure Tom has the proper portions.” She patted her comrade’s forearm affectionately.

Best keep the family dog consoled when embarrassed.

Tom was still fuming to himself, heels shuffling in his usually perfect steps as they left the studio. Of course he smiled ever-so-brightly as he signed pictures for fans, joking with a few of the girls and shaking hands as if it were second nature. Lourie hung back, away from him. Better to have rumours touting on about her camera-shy then attention starved. It would add the sweetest fuel to the fire. Tom’s publicist, Luke, kept tossing cautious glances towards Lourie and her own publicist.

It seemed strange to him, the manner in which she continued to watch everything around her, especially Tom, all while her own assistant primped her hair about and adjusted the buttons on her shirt that seemed to fall apart of their own volition. She frightened him, this young girl from who knows where. Almost in a way comparable to Tom after too many days spent in costume. He carefully nudged Tom’s shoulder, apologizing to the fans as he pulled his friend away with him to whisk him about to another interview.

“That Lourie certainly is intense.” Luke remarked in passing, words quiet in the back of the car.

“The place is on 5th.”

“Yes, really a brilliant actress. Hard to believe she’s never had any classes.” His friend replied, offering a slight smile.

Tom seemed to tense, if only for a moment. Had Luke not spent so much time around Tom he might not have noticed, but he did. Tom seldom felt stress or anxiety. It even looked as if the man had the beginnings of dark circles about his blue eyes. Something was wrong, and Luke had a priority to fix whatever it was.

Of course “Lourie” watched the whole thing; strange how humans never seemed to notice when she astral projected. It was easy enough, leaving some basic control to her physical form so that she might be moved and answer simple questions while her spirit was away doing her life’s work. Oh she wanted to kiss her dear Tom, already her mastery of half-truths had rubbed off on him.

Loki never left Tom’s side, though Tom was not certain just whom followed who. They attended premiers together, even went on talk shows to compliment one another. Each new instant seemed to send another wave of rumors trickling through the internet; each time Tom found himself tempted to beg for the help of an exorcist.

Even when they were a country apart she always found the time to travel to his room, crawling out of the mirror with limbs morbidly twisting about the frame. The first time Loki had shown up in his London home in that manner he nearly fainted. She was always watching. The sleepless nights were wearing him, he’d even lost his usual appetite for desserts.

Certainly Tom had problems before ridding himself of the character of Loki, however this presented a new struggle. How exactly does one rid themselves of a god when the god has chosen you for their own devices? Loki seemed to revel in driving Tom mad, even things so simple as switching the salt and sugar seemed maniacal at best. When he used to imagine himself having conversations with Loki such things might have been endearing, but the deity Loki was certainly less kind. Loki intended entirely ruin his livelihood.

One of Loki’s favorite past-times seemed to be torturing the boundaries of Tom’s promiscuity. The god’s sexual deviancy kept him on his toes. Many nights he found himself pressed against grimy back alley trash cans, pants about his ankles with Loki kneeling before him. Other nights Loki might instruct Tom on which person he was to bring home from the bar (sometimes even fans, poor girls) for Loki to torment before ultimately wiping clean their memory. No, certainly Tom would not deny the many pleasures Loki offered him (he never thought he would so deeply enjoy a fan watching him bend Lourie over the table), yet he could not help but gain suspicion.

Each day Loki seemed to look at Tom a little bit longer, perhaps something akin to fondness growing in the god’s emerald gaze. The slightest smile would pass those wickedly feminine features before once again Loki was flashing him extra cleavage or resting her hand upon him beneath the table.

Tom knew the god took small pleasure from being the cause of his now excessive drinking. He seldom ate and could not even remember the last time he had gotten a full nights rest. It seemed as though Loki wanted nothing more than to see his mental state shatter. The same madness that Tom previously believed to be within Loki seemed more and more a product of Tom’s own character. It was as if Loki fed upon the characteristics Tom made a point to hide about himself; It seemed horrid when seeing another behave in such a manner.

When Loki demanded to be introduced to his family Tom could not help but find himself reluctant. Tom seldom took women home to his family, mostly because he wanted neither his family nor his female companion to feel any sort of obligation. He loved his family far too much to bring a new person in only to have them walk out. Certainly his mother had mentioned how much time he seemed to be around “Lourie” to which Tom only dismissed as work. Though, no matter how peculiar and depraved a relationship he shared with the God it still had the dynamics of a basic romance.

“Are you worried I will behave inappropriately?” Loki purred, her fingers trailing serpentine shapes upon the skin of his thigh as they laid in his bed, naked bodies still emanating heat from their latest romp. Loki had recently been on a degradation kick, taking pleasure in telling Tom just how hard he could spank her, or which words he could use to insult her.

“No, Loki, I have the utmost trust in you.”

The sarcasm was not lost as Loki raised an eyebrow questioningly.

“Really now, Thomas, such bitterness. I have done no harm-“

“You certainly have not done any good either. Why do you wish to meet my family? What purpose?” Tom could barely handle the games any longer.

“So testy. I am simply wishing to do some research, that is all dear Thomas. I already know all I could possibly want, however to meet them would be a great honor. After all, I wonder if they know any of their son’s dirty secrets. Does mummy know how you used to have a nice wank to the thought of taking your sister’s virginity?”

“All secrets are your doing.” It merely resounded of truth. Tom never had hidden anything about his life for he never had the need to. Now he feared if he even uttered the truth he would quickly be committed to the nearest ward.

Keeping secrets was not in his nature and slowly it was tearing him apart. All humans needed secrets, at least to keep for themselves, yet keeping secrets from others was a different matter.

“Oh Thomas, please? You really can’t refuse me, you know?” Loki teased tone airy with glee.

Tom could not help but to wince upon feeling the slight prick from one of Loki’s nails. His resolve remained, however.

“Loki, you do not own all aspects of me. You’re acidic. If I allow you into their lives you shall deteriorate those as well. You’re a vile poison.” Tom hissed, puling himself out from under the female form atop him.

“I mean no harm to them, why is it you always presume I’m lying? Perhaps that is the true ingeniousness of Loki, you must realize it.”

For a moment he might have seen hurt in those deep eyes of emerald, or maybe pride, and just as quickly they shifted back to mirth. Loki taunted Tom the rest of the night, spouting on about his senseless loyalty to his family. Loki certainly enjoyed riling Tom, prodding at the notion of him loving his mother a bit too much.

“We all are guilty of such things…ah dear lovely Mother.”

“Make me a bargain.”

Loki seemed surprised at Tom’s sudden eagerness to relent. If anything, Tom had avoided bargaining with Loki at all costs. The only time had been a bargain over a game of hide and seek in Times Square in which Loki failed miserably, allowing Tom a night without the trickster. He’d already lost the rights to his own life, so really what else could he afford to lose? He had no choice but to convince Loki.

“What’s that, Thomas?”

“You insist upon this? For whatever reason it is you insist upon it?” Tom emphasized.

“Obviously.” Loki touted impatiently, a slight scowl upon her thin lips.

“I will strike you a deal, Loki.”

“What are your terms?” Loki pressed her naked form against Tom’s side, stroking his shoulder fondly. As pleasant as the nude form was, it distracted him if only for a moment. He was striking a bargain with the most renowned trickster.

“If I allow you this, you cannot say anything to them of our relationship.”

“Oh Thomas we cannot null a contract already in operation.”

“I never agreed to whatever palsy terms you have placed upon my soul. You use me as you will, allow me this one reprieve. Send me to your daughter if you wish it but you may not in any way harm the lives of my family. Do what you will with me, but not around them.”

“I already have though. To harm you is to harm them. Such a verbal entrapment shall not be placed upon me so easily.”

“Definitely more clever then I.” He appealed, hoping to flatter Loki’s vanity. “What harm is there?”

“What harm…indeed.”


	7. Chapter 7

“We are oft to blame in this, -  
‘tis too much proved, - that with devotion’s visage,  
and pious action we do sugar o’er  
the devil himself.”  
― William Shakespeare, Hamlet

~~ Chapter 7~~

It had been an early flight, regrettably. Tom set his alarm to be punctual, leave himself enough time to pack before catching the plane. Naturally though Loki made certain it was far more complicated. Tom’s alarm went off with a mere five minutes before the cab arrived(his clothes wound up strewn lazily in his bag, shirt sleeves sticking out from the zipper), his passport regrettably went missing (found in underneath the bathroom sink)and Lourie sat the whole while, legs crossed in sweats she’d stolen from him.

 

Thankfully they had made it in time to catch the flight, Lourie merely smiling the whole while as if there was not a care in the world. She said nothing, which seemed strange. Typically there was not a waking moment Loki did not put forth effort to pester him and prod him to see if he might anger.

“Is it necessary to kick the back of my seat, Lourie?” Tom drawled, casting an exasperated sigh around the headrest of his seat. Her knee seemed to find the back of it far too often to be coincidence.

“Sorry, Tom, I really didn’t mean to.” She smiled cheekily, tucking a lock of ebony hair safely behind her ear.

He merely gave a nod, turning back to his book. Naturally after they had boarded there was yet another delay, something about birds in the lavatory. Through the whole wait Lourie had been incredibly kind the entire time, even given her seat to some red-headed chap who said the window seats made him nauseous.

Tom tried to appreciate such pleasantries, such normalcy, yet found himself apprehensive. She’d dressed casually, something she seldom did, and for a moment Tom was reminded of who she was as Lourie, rather than the God of Mischief. Lourie did not care much for makeup, indeed seemed utterly opposed to brushing her hair if she was not going to be captured by photographers that day.

She had offered to buy him coffee, even guessed correctly that he preferred them with caramel and soy to cream. When their shoulders bumped she has offered a bow of the head and verbal condolences. Her coyness seemed so genuine and appealing and for a moment Tom forgot who she really was, what they really were. All the fascination he once found in her still remained, if only Lourie were a real human, not some god’s false flesh.  
The man seated next to Tom scrunched his brow, shuffling about in his seat a bit before leaning towards Tom almost apologetically.

“Women, eh mate? Is she yours?”

“Ah, we are coworkers. ” Tom responded, a lighthearted laugh that now seemed forgotten escaping him.

The man quirked a brow, adjusting the disheveled yellow ball cap perched atop his head. He appeared tall, a build quite similar to Tom’s own. Though, certainly the man lacked normal sense of fashion, it seemed as if he’d stolen the pieces from the dumpster, perhaps even from discarded baggage. Blue shirt with horrible stripped corduroy pants? Truly horrible.

“You’re a terrible liar. Men don’t look at women with exasperation unless it’s love.”

“I’ve been going about romance the wrong way all along then, it would seem.” Tom mused, again attempting to turn his attention back to the novel.

“So long as you don’t marry, no harm done. Trust me, not worth all the nagging.” The man smiled brightly, arm taking over the middle armrest.

Tom glanced away hoping against hope the red-headed man might understand how awkward a conversation to have with a stranger. “Perhaps not. It’s not something I ponder often, to be frank.”

“Oh, lad, I mean not even once. You know, women have so many emotions inside, they take everything personally. And men, well they put all of their responsibilities on others! Not meant to work! I never realized that until it was too late. You can’t make something change that is fixed, some things aren’t meant to change.” He spoke animatedly, arm waving about a bit as each word seemed punctual, to the point. Tom had nearly forgotten how to speak to someone without taking into account potential ulterior motives.

The man seemed jovial enough, and Tom certainly tried his best not to assume the true meaning of the other’s words. Again the man arched a lone red brow, his clean shaven face cracking into a slight smile.

“Such opposites seem to work, though.” Tom held a deep respect for women, at least the ones in his life, even those who left him gave him deep marks and knowledge.

Ah, not Lourie though. He still couldn’t count the God as a woman, no matter how many attempts she made to prove it. Lourie was something else entirely.

“Didn’t quite mean it like that, though I wouldn’t say it’s wrong. People get silly for love, do strange things that mix up the mind and confuse it. Love is a dangerous game to play in which seldom there are winners.” The man carefully shoved a few peanuts into his mouth, seemingly surprised with the taste before offering a broad grin to the other man. “Have you ever tried these? So strange tasting. And the package, so quaint. What will they think of next…”

“Some games are worth the risk though. Love is beautiful, wonderfully exciting.”

“Are you a gambling man then? “ The ginger’s interest piqued, eyes seeming alight at the thought.

“Oh, not in that sense, eheh I’ve made a horrible first impression. I’m Tom.” He offered his hand and a generous smile to the man.

“Ah, I thought I recognized you. An actor no less. Wouldn’t have anticipated you’d be so nice. Pleasure to meet you mate.”

The red head shook his hand with a tight grip, giving a nod to the other as his free arm flew up into the air. Tom wondered where he might have been from, as accents were so fascinating, but he didn’t bother to ask. It was as if a Scottish man were attempting to speak with a deeply southern dialect, it worked though in his mind he knew how ridiculous that sounded.

“Pardon me, Miss Attendant? Can a couple of guys get a drink over here…You do drink don’t you, Tom?”

“It would be rude to refuse.” Tom shrugged with a smile, relaxing a bit into his seat.

“Something dark, none of that pale beer for my tastes.”

Lourie merely sat behind, eyes doe wide the whole while as a slight smile crossed her features. 

It almost seemed a relief to have some communication. Apparently the red-head was Scandinavian, heading home for his mother’s birthday. The conversation between the two fell with such ease Tom could not help but wonder if he had met the man before. Such a warming and jovial smile truly refreshed him. He couldn’t remember for the life of him his new friend’s name. He forgot for a moment any miserable conditions his life had been turned into. That lopsided grin was contagious and as they departed the plane at the terminal Tom again took the man’s hand.

“You’re brilliant; it means a lot having had your company.”

“Oh mate, there are many of me and you’ll never know it. Don’t be so hard on yourself; you’re so young to be slumping. There are always far worse days and far better days in front of you. ”  
Lourie carefully laid her arm about Tom’s waist, a careful smile on her lips as she merely gave a nod to the Scandinavian. He watched as the two eyed one another, rather shamelessly scoping across the other’s body. Tom meant to ask his name, reaching out to stop him as he walked off only for Lourie to tug at the hem of his shirt, distracting him.

“Thomas, didn’t you mention dinner with your sister? Perhaps I heard you wrong….”

“You and I both know…” He smiled to her briefly, “that is incredibly unlikely.”

By the time he turned back to find the man he was gone, lost in the crowd of people bobbing about between flights. Tom found his arm falling about Lourie’s shoulders, resting on them haphazardly as he allowed himself to be tugged along by her. Such unladylike insistence in public was rather out of character; Tom thought it impossible for a god to feel rushed about anything.

“You seem excited.” He mused.

“And you do not. They are your family after all, you should be glad to see them.”

“I am.” Tom’s honesty rang true, his gaze again falling to his companion. When on Earth did he star thinking of her so favorably?

“Are you surprised I did not pull you away for a romp? Do you think such heinous thought of your god frequently?”

“You’re no God, no something differently entirely.” He mused, tone light.

“It was a good idea, admittedly. Your mind is even more depraved then I first thought.”  
“How do you know such?”

She smiled cheekily, lithe fingers brushing against her own collarbone. “I’m no mind reader, merely a reader of expressions. I thought the same as well.”

Tom heaved a sigh, adjusting the leather jacket about his shoulders before reaching down to heave up their luggage. Normally, she might have insisted he take them both, though instead she carefully took her own, offering him a nod of thanks.

“You fancy a change of attire, I take it?” He threw out casually, perhaps hinting at his sarcasm.

“What is the occasion?”

“Drinks. We are meeting my sister for drinks. She didn’t want to make you nervous, figured you may appreciate the noise of somewhere public.”

“What a sweet girl…”

“Remember our deal.” Tom chided, casting a wary glance towards her.

A dark eyebrow quirked up at him, eyes steely for just a moment before she nodded. “Yes, can’t have your beautiful sister seeing me in the rags of peasants. Perhaps that black dress I’ve been saving.” 

“Not green?” teasingly, he bumped his elbow against her shoulder, “It suits you much better.”

“I shall not be made into a peacock, Thomas. Don’t be a fool.”

Just so quickly the kindness had dissipated and Tom found himself left following behind her steps, noting the slight sashay of her hips seeming more in place now after so much time as a female. She seemed more tangible in that moment than ever before. He served Loki, and there were far worse things that could have befallen him.


	8. Chapter 8- Of Force

“Freedom is life’s great lie…”

~~ Chapter Eight~~

”  
Lourie looked a marvel in that short lace dress, the center hugging carefully against her waist as the lace shifted with each subtle move. She wore her dark hair back, tied messily against the back of her head rather than down in the lose curls he was accustomed to. If he hadn’t known any better he might have thought she wanted to impress someone.

It didn’t impress him, though. Perhaps long ago, seeing a beautiful woman dressed as she was might have stirred within him longing, though now all he saw was the torture and the sleepless night he would no doubt be faced with yet again. It was a pity, she seemed lovely when she was well behaved. Sure, she was excellent between the sheets but he truly longed for companionship. The God’s presence only seemed to alienate him further from everyone else.  
His sister greeted them both with warm hugs, it had been too long since he’d last seen her. Tom longed for his family while he traveled for filming and openings. It was a large reason why he’d never settled down yet; Ambition was a cruel mistress and he had placed his career above his own family. For the longest time it had been enough to see his sisters and mothers nearly every month.

“This must be Lourie. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Lourie grinned cheekily, arms wrapping about his sister’s smaller frame quickly, an awkward hug. “Is that so? Only good things I hope.”

Emma nodded a bit, turning again to her brother. “How was the trip?”

It was one thing to tease him in public, to press her heeled foot against his own, her hand upon his knee beneath the table, teasingly trailing up the leg of his trouser to the loops of his belt. However seeing his sister so content to talk with Lourie set something off inside of Tom. The way they shared laughter as if two old friends, his sister never had cared for any of the women he dated.

Certainly Emma was not cruel to them, merely concerned for her brother’s emotional well-being. And yet his last hope that someone might understand his plight now sat across from him, exchanging stories of her years of study, her roles in theater. He felt utterly isolated, though he did not show it. Of course he exchanged the basic pleasantries with his sister, doting upon how lovely she looked and how he’d missed her in the months they’d been apart.  
Lourie dismissed herself, apparently noting the way Tom bristled against the touch of her thigh to his. Both he and his sister watched as she walked away, lost only for a moment before disappearing across the other side of the small bar.

“I like her, Tom. She seems great for you.”

“Ah, we aren’t dating.” He said, reaching across to rest his hand upon her arm, gently.

“Of course not.” Emma offered a bright grin, un-fooled by his words, “You don’t bring women home often, especially not those ‘just friends’ sorts.”

His sister was too wise for her own good; He felt horrid that unwittingly she had been deceived. She rather liked Lourie, which was understandable. If she were truly Lourie she might have been an ideal mate for Tom. The fact that his sister had fallen for Loki’s tricks as well only angered him. To see her taken advantage of was a transgression not easily forgotten.

“Tom, what’s wrong?”

He shook his head dismissively. “You’re right, she can be lovely.”

“Does she wear you out, Tom?” Emma teased a bit, taking another casual sip of her drink.

Tom laughed a bit, hand finding solace in tousling his own hair. “Yes, yes she does.”

“Is she good in bed?”

Tom choked a bit on his drink, wiping his mouth with a napkin as he gazed with wide eyes across the table. He must have heard her wrong.

“What’s wrong, Tom?”

“Sorry, I didn’t hear you. Strong stuff.” He gestured to the small glass in front of him.

“I asked if she treated you well.”

He breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

“Tom are you sure you’re alright? You’re acting strange…” Emma’s forehead crinkled with the concern.

“I’m fine, truly. It was a long flight.” He justified, it was not a lie merely a half-truth.

“You know, it’s too bad. You’re going to be really tuckered when she gets done riding you tonight.”

He must have appeared shocked, breath hitching as he merely stared gapingly at his sister. She seemed equally confused. Her brother was not nearly old enough to have problems hearing, and he would never have before minded her complimenting his dates. If anything he might have tossed an arm up to rejoice under past circumstances.

“Excuse me?”

“Do you not find her charming? She’s really nice, Tom.” Emma raised a brow, head tilting as she watched him carefully. “A beauty nude, I’m sure you two look marvelous in the middle of rutting. Does she ever let you on top? Oh please, say you will fuck her hard tonight.”

He should have known. After all, this was not harmful; to play with words is far from a dangerous offense. He should have known. He turned, gazing over to the bar where the trickster stood, smile upon her features as the bar tender handed her another drink. She raised the glass, tilting it towards him as her lips pursed with a wretched smirk.

“Does it bother you to hear your sister say such filthy things? You’re dear baby sister? Or maybe you’re the one wanting to hear them from her. That would be substantially more upsetting.” His sister’s voice cooed from beside him.

“I…excuse me, please for just a moment. I’m really sorry.” Tom raised his hands apologetically, removing himself from the table.

“Tom…alright. Are you sure you’re-“

“Yes, I’m fine, really Emma.” He cast a quick look, one he could only hope would express his love for her, anything to soothe her worry.

He pushed his way past the others, not even bothering to state a pleasant ‘excuse me’ upon his passing. His mind raced, thoughts muddled. Every voice around him sounded like Lourie’s, all those faces smirking in the same manner she did, that tittering laugh of victory she would issue while he begged for her to allow him release. Every time they had shared a quiet joust over written works, every time she would profess that he was the favorite of her devotees. Each small sigh she hid against the pillow while he took her from behind, the taunting of her words when he professed her ownership of him. Then all he heard again was the breaking of her glass as his grip found her arm, fingers digging into the soft skin.

For just a moment, the god wondered if perhaps Tom had been pushed to far by this small prank. If perhaps it was a horrible thing to torture such a nice man for such selfish reasons as pleasure, to exert the small freedom the trickster did have. This man who played Loki so well on screen did have a kinship with Loki, that much was clear. How painful the trickery must have been, as if being fooled by one’s own reflection. How angry his blue eyes blazed, jaw clenched. Even angry his features seemed too perfect.

What a fool Tom must have felt, she had felt the same foolishness.

He watched as those green eyes narrowed, “That’s no way to handle a lady, Thomas.” She remarked coyly, offering a faint smile.

“I see no lady. I’ve had it. We’re leaving. If it is dirty you wanted, you need only have asked.”

“Let me say farewell to your sister, first. Can’t make a bad impression on her, can we? Don’t want her thinking you’ve gone round the bend. Shame, worry would harm her, wouldn’t it?”

The goodbyes were brief, his apologies to Emma profuse. He hated seeing the concern upon his sister’s face, she was too young to worry over him. It was all Loki’s fault, all his fault. He wished he might pull Emma aside, explain all that she had missed in his absence, all the woes in his life. Such things he would never dare share with another lest the seeping poison that was Loki spread. In the cab, Loki said little, merely watching the lights of the city through the dewy glass.

“Is there nothing that silver tongue of yours has to offer?”

“It is not wise to seek apologies from a cornered animal.”

Tom did not speculate the meaning, did not care to hear those practiced words explaining anything. These rouses that normally intrigued him suddenly seemed tired, dilapidated within the bitter air.

“Thomas, anger does not suit you. You are truly a horrible actor. Tonight our charade, our dance, will end. You will kneel. In the end, man always kneels to the forces greater then himself.”


End file.
